Mother Knows Best
by French Vanilla Cloud
Summary: Appolline Delacour spends the majority of her life doing what most daughters do - contradicting her mother. When two of her own daughters are put in immense danger, will she finally learn the lesson her mother was trying to teach her all along?


_**Author's Note: This story was written for owluvr38's Mother's Day contest, in which I was assigned Appolline Delacour. Basically, the story is a recap of her life, most of which she spends criticizing her mother. Only when she goes through a stressful mothering situation herself does she understand the importance of being a mother. Hope you guys like it!**_

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"_Le travail le plus dur, encore plus gratifiant dans le monde est d'être une mere."_

It was a statement that followed me through the years. During all my mischievous moments, my dear mother would always give me an exasperated look and recite that line, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. _"Le travail le plus dur, encore plus gratifiant dans le monde est d'être une mere!"_ In English it simply meant that being a mother was the hardest, yet most rewarding job in the world. Every time, I would laugh. Mothering, a hard job? Surely there were more challenging careers that at leastmyou could get paid for. In my young mind, becoming Minister of Magic, teaching at Beauxbatons, or even crafting wands were challenging jobs. Not mothering. Everytime I would smirk at her, she would warn me that one day, I would understand and regret all the heartache I had cost her. I just rolled my eyes and continued with my day.

The years flew by, and in the time it took to bat an eyelash, I started my education at Beauxbatons School of Magic. I took my family and my home, and traded it in for something bigger, something better. I learned spells, I made friends, and I learned how to be a respectful woman. I still wrote to my mother, although our correspondence was sporadic and frankly boring. Fast forward a few years, and I had developed an interest for the mysterious, but attractive, opposite sex. I attained boyfriend after boyfriend, date after date. At sixteen, it was like an adult game of dress up. I'd go on a date with a boy, tell him that I was interested in him, and then the next day, I'd send one of his friends to break up with him for me. Surprisingly, this didn't deter other boys from searching for me; I guess being half-veela was an asset. As usual, my mother fed me her famous line, and warned me about dating, but I just shut her out. It wasn't until I turned twenty that I'd be happy to be rid of those hormone-crazed years.

I met Marquis Delacour when I was twenty-two, and it was only a year before we married and I got pregnant. I knew the child would more than likely be a girl; it was Veela tradition, after all, and I was eagerly awaiting her arrival. While picking out baby clothes with my mother, she recited the line I hated, for what felt like the thousandth time. "Mothering is the hardest, yet most rewarding job in the world. Get ready for it." A smug look crossed her face, as if she knew something that I was too immature to realize. I resisted the urge to hex her, and simply nodded, dismissing the conversation entirely.

It wasn't long until on January 26, 1977, my beautiful Fleur Isabelle came into the world. With her wispy blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sea, I knew she'd grow to be a heartbreaker. As soon as the Mediwitch placed the heavy bundle in my arms, I finally felt purpose in life. For the last twenty years, I had lived life according to my every whim, wandering aimlessly down the path of life, but I knew that had to change.I knew that I needed to protect this child, to raise her to be strong in a world that was tainted with despair and ugliness. Becoming a mother, it was the best day of my life.

Time was not merciful, and soon the heavy bundle had become an active, walking, talking toddler. Sure, she might've pulled the cat's tail on occasion, and there were a few incidents in which she got a hold of my wand, but it was generally an easy life. While Marquis went to work at the Ministère, my job was simply to make sure that Fleur was occupied and to cast some cleaning charms. It was simple work, and everyday seemed like a new vacation.

Fleur continued to grow and change, shaping into a more beautiful young lady each day. During my second pregnancy, I would watch her in the garden as she ran after the butterflies, her silvery blonde hair blowing angelically in the wind. It simply amazed me how Marquis and I could create something so lovely. On November 18, 1987, I was blessed yet again with another bouncing baby girl, Gabrielle Amélie Delacour, who looked very much like her elder sister. With a ten-year-old and a baby, things were hectic, but life was still generally easy. Fleur was a doting sister, and sometimes I felt like she was a hired babysitter, not an older sister. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before our time together came to an end and I escorted her into the Beauxbatons carriages. I waved goodbye like an idiot, a mixed emotions swimming in my chest. Seeing her leave on a new adventure brought out a thrill for me, but I couldn't help but let a few tears leak. I saw a piece of myself in her, a young girl leaving for the most eventful years of her life.

With Fleur gone, it seemed like there was a hole in my heart. I wrote to her weekly, to try to fill it, but while I gave her detailed reports about home life and her sister, the replies I got were quite vague. She told me that she loved the classes, that she found the Headmistress to be a bit… strange, and that she had made new friends, but she never did expand on that information. I longed to know who her friends were (did I know their parents?) , but I withheld my curiosity. I suddenly cherished my time with Gabrielle, knowing that it wouldn't be long until she was secretive like Fleur and didn't want her "maman" around so much. Even with a feeling of emptiness, I still didn't agree with my mother, because parenting wasn't as hard as she had made it out to be.

Things changed drastically in October 1994, when it was announced that the Triwizard Tournament would be held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had long known what the tournament was, and I knew that it wasn't too pretty. I had heard stories, stories of death and stories of misfortune from events gone wrong. I knew this, but yet when my baby begged and pleaded to let her go to Hogwarts to put her name in the Goblet, my heart betrayed me. With her pink lips drawn into a pout and her eyes bleeding into mine, I knew I couldn't stop her from trying – after all, what were the chances that she'd actually be selected? I sent her away, and silently prayed that maybe, hopefully, if I had any luck at all, she wouldn't be selected. Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky, and less than a day later, I received an unwanted letter from Beauxbatons.

I watched as fall turned into winter, as the first task came and went without complication. When I wasn't mourning the loss of my mother, who had recently died from dragon pox, I spent my time worrying about Fleur. As much as I wished to withdraw her from the tournament, I knew that such an act was not possible. Instead, I channelled most of my energy into making sure that Gabrielle was content and safe. On a chilly February day, I received yet another owl from the Heads of the Triwizard Tournament, requesting that I bring Gabrielle to Hogwarts as part of the second task. While reading that letter, I felt as if I would break apart. All the things I cherished seemed to be slowly taken away from me, and I felt defenseless and broken. Despite my emotions, I was compelled to let Gabrielle participate - as long as I would accompany her. The day before the task, we were herded into the Headmaster's chambers at Hogwarts. I couldn't help but feel like sheep. Once there, they explained that Gabrielle would be bewitched into a deep sleep and would be placed underwater for Fleur to rescue. They reassured me that the task would be completely secure, and that both my Gabrielle and my Fleur would be kept safe, but the feeling of dread present in my heart was not relieved. To my dismay, Gabrielle agreed wholeheartedly, leaving me with no choice but to co-operate.

The following day, February the 24th was undoubtedly the most difficult day of my life. Begrudgingly, I watched as my little daughter was escorted away by Madame Maxime, who assured me that Fleur was a smart girl and that everything would go as planned. Mindlessly, I manoeuvred into a seat on the raised box with the Heads of the Tournament and other parents. To me, they all looked too ridiculously excited for such a dangerous event. As they chatted leisurely, I stared at the water below me in silence. I knew that down there, farther than I could probably fanthom, laid my precious baby girl, totally oblivious to the world around her. A tear escaped down my cheek, and I brushed it away impatiently, flashing a tense smile at the wizards around me. Eventually, a horn sounded, signalling the arrival of the four contestants. I craned my head over the box, desperate to see my Fleur, just to tell her that I was here, that I believed in her. Unfortunately, she did not appear as fast as I wished. First came a scrawny, hook-nosed teenager that I assumed to be Viktor Krum, followed by Cedric Diggory, a relatively handsome young man. Behind him, emerged my baby girl, her hair slicked back into a ponytail, and a look of fear plastered on her face. I wanted to hold her, to tell her that everything would be fine, but instead I restrained myself, willing her to look up at the bleachers. She never did, and instead turned nervously to the boy behind her, a boy with raven black hair that, by the volume of cheers in the February air, I assumed to be Harry Potter. Once all the champions had assembled at the edge of the lake, a second horn signalled the beginning of the Second Task. Amongst the excited spectators, I watched as Fleur cast a charm and a bubble appeared around her pale face. With the gracefulness of a fish, she slipped into the water and was gone.

The next half hour passed painfully slow. I couldn't help but wonder where my daughters were, if Fleur had rescued Gabrielle yet, or if they had met trouble. I prayed that they would get out of the lake without incident, but my worry did not cease. For the first time, life seemed unfairly short, like a gift that could be given but then taken away in an instant. Previously, I hadn't even let myself think about losing one of my children, but suddenly, the idea seemed all too real. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, but I was soon awoken out of my state by yells of shock. Snapping my eyes open, I leaned over the box to see Fleur emerge from the water, her face a pale white, her sopping wet hair plastered around her face. I looked around urgently for a sign of Gabrielle, hoping that she would swim to the surface after her sister, but she never did. Alarmed, I ran over crowds of spectators as I hurried down to the lake's edge. With a look of shock glazed across her face, Fleur ran into my arms and I wrapped myself around her in a damp hug. She breathed deeply a few times before speaking.

"Gabrielle, she eez still in there, Maman!" she cried, tears leaking from her pale cheeks. "I could not save 'er, I 'ave failed you. The grindylows, they attacked me, I couldn't make it. She's still th –"

The lump in my throat grew bigger as I thought about my little girl, asleep in the depths of the lake. Before Fleur could break down completely, I interrupted her, my voice growing stronger with every word, "Shh, my sweet. Zey will find 'er. I am sure of eet."

I was handed a fluffy towel by a wizard with a long gray beard, and I wrapped it around Fleur, who was shivering in the wintry air. There we stood, my arm needlessly rubbing hers as we watched the water intently.

"Hey, look! There's someone coming out of the lake!" I looked around wildly, hoping that my eyes would meet a mop of silvery blonde hair. Unfortunately, it was the other two champions and their hostages, Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory. Beside me, Fleur let out a dry sob.

"Zey will never find 'er, Maman. Eet's my entire fault, eet's my entire fault!" she cried. This time, I couldn't even muster the energy to comfort her, and instead I covered my head in my arms. I had lost her. She would never come back. If only I had spent more time with her, if only I had thought about the consequences before I let her go, if only…

"IT'S HARRY, HARRY POTTER!" a magnified voice yelled throughout the air. "Wait, he's gotten more than one hostage! He's rescued Gabrielle Delacour as well!"

In the center of the lake, I watched as one, two, three heads emerged from the water. With the help of Harry Potter, they were dragged in to shore, where Fleur managed to grab her sister. In two steps, I ran to them, encasing my arms around both my precious daughters. They were both cold, but as far as I could see, they were both safe, and that was all that mattered. In that instant, sopping wet and freezing from holding them, I realized that my mother had been right indeed. In the last hour, I felt as if I had aged ten years – and gained several gray hairs. Mothering definitely wasn't an easy task; it was a very delicate process that required a lot of time and worry. At times, it was stressful and tense, but the immense joy of watching them overcome obstacles and problems, was a reward that I wouldn't trade for the world. If only it hadn't taken me thirty-nine years to realize it.

My arms wrapped tightly around the most important things in my life, I smiled into the heavens and whispered, "Thanks, Maman."


End file.
